


but nobody came

by TheBigCat



Category: Doctor Who (Big Finish Audio), The Odyssey - Homer
Genre: Drabble, Gen, Wordplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-10 12:59:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12912411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBigCat/pseuds/TheBigCat
Summary: There is only one pair of footsteps in the sand this evening, and it isn’t the visitor’s.





	but nobody came

**Author's Note:**

> Written for an English class a fair while ago, so don't expect too much in regards to quality. 
> 
> Consider this a warmup for what's coming next.

Time doesn’t really have a meaning on Ogygia. The days pass by, sliding into one another smoothly, and the crystal-clear ocean laps gently at the shore. It never seems to rain or get windy, and the sunsets are always radiant and beautiful, lighting up the sky with a million colors that cascade and coalesce and make it seem like the horizon’s on fire.

After a while, though, even the most beautiful sunsets start to get boring.

There was a man- strong and tall- sitting on the shoreline that evening, his fingers digging into the ground behind him. He was raking the sand absently with his fingers, making patterns and furrows that filled with shadows as they deepened. He was staring off into the distance, towards the horizon of the flat, unmoving water that never changed and never will. And there was a look in his eyes- something close to loneliness or maybe even longing. He seemed completely unaware of anything around him except the sunset and the sand, and maybe not even that.

The waves rushed up in a gentle stream, just barely touching his feet, and raced back into the ocean again.

Footsteps on the sand behind him barely roused the man, not even when the person walking stopped only meters from him, scuffing their feet along the sand. They were, quite obviously, trying to make their presence heard.

There was silence for a moment as the newcomer observed the man, still unmoving. They pursued their lips-

-and began to whistle.

It was a plaintive sort of sound, a simple tune that ascended and descended before repeating, looping around and around. It echoed across the waves and back again- slow and sweet and just a bit longing.

After five loops of this song, the man spoke.

“You should not be here, stranger,” he said, gaze unmoving from the horizon. His fingers twitched through the sand again, grains running through his fingers and back to the ground where they came from.

The newcomer finished the tune, walking over to stand beside the man on the shore. “Shouldn’t I?”

(There is only one pair of footsteps in the sand this evening, and it isn’t the visitor’s.)

“Nobody comes to Ogygia unless they have been banished by the gods themselves,” the man said, and tilted his head the slightest fraction, curious. “And somehow… I feel that this is not the case with you, stranger.”

“You’d be correct.”

“Then why are you here?”

There was only silence, broken by the washing of waves on the shore.

The stranger’s voice was measured and mellow when he spoke. “Let’s just say… I’m a figment of your imagination. That makes things a lot easier for both of us.”

“The figments of my imagination usually are a lot less tangible,” said the man on the sand dryly, tracing circular patterns on the ground with his fingertips. “I wonder- have I finally gone mad at last?”

The stranger laughed, quite suddenly and loudly, and dropped to the ground next to the man like his legs had been suddenly tugged out from underneath him. “Well, now. I’m not exactly the best judge of that.” He grinned and leans in close. “I’m quite mad myself, you see,” he confided.

“Then we shall both have to trust that I am not mad,” the man returned. “Or I rather fear this will make for lonely conversation- one man, sitting here, talking to himself.”

“That’s the spirit,” agreed the stranger.

The man on the beach hummed a low note, and drew his legs closer so that they wouldn’t be splashed by the seaspray. “What is your name, stranger?”

“Oh, me?” said the stranger, and laughed loudly, even though there was nothing to laugh at. “I’m Nobody.”

The man on the beach turned his head to stare at the newcomer, and saw him properly for the first time. He was tall and lean, and his raven hair was tousled and windswept, and he had a distinct air that made him seem quite, quite mad.

“Nobody,” said the man on the beach slowly, drawing the word out, tasting it on his tongue. “I took that name once.”

“I know you did. It’s a bit rude, isn’t it, stealing other people’s names?”

“I did not know it was yours.”

“I know you didn’t.”

“Is there anything you do not know, stranger?”

He shrugged, and leaned back, looking up at the faded blue sky. “Everyone has things that they don’t know. Nobody knows everything.”

“Do you indeed,” the man on the beach murmured.

“I know that I know nothing at all,” said Nobody. “I know world, the flesh, and the devil, and that Theseus’s ship isn’t his original ship anymore. I know that if a tree falls in the forest and Nobody is around, it does in fact make a sound- I was there, you see.”

“And if you know everything, esteemed Nobody,” the man on the beach said, “then how many angels can dance on the head of a pin?”

Nobody laughed. “Well, that’s quite simple. Only one can, because the rest never learned to dance.” He leaned in confidentially. “But just between you and me, he’s a terrible dancer. Two left wings, you see.”

The man on the beach sat back and thought for a moment. “I suppose I shall have to take your word for it- all of your words.”

“You shall,” answered Nobody.

“You seem to be very good at twisting your words, esteemed Nobody.”

“Why, thank you, esteemed stranger,” said Nobody. “What’s your name? Your real one, I mean. It’s not polite to keep conversing with somebody if you don’t know their proper name.”

The man on the beach sat and thought for a very long time.

“Odysseus,” he said finally, and laughed lowly under his breath. “I had nearly forgotten my own name, you know. Funny things, names.”

“Names are powerful,” agreed Nobody gravely. “It’s a pleasure to know you at last, esteemed Odysseus.”

“Likewise,” replied Odysseus.

“I’ve heard of you before,” Nobody said. “Odysseus the resourceful, man of twists and turns. Odysseus, man of action- the great teller of tales! Man of exploits, man of pain, that kingly man… the hero… the great tactician…”

“It seems my reputation has preceded me,” Odysseus admitted, frowning a bit. “Esteemed Nobody… how do you know of who I am when I have been stuck on this island for eternity?”

“Eternity?” Nobody laughed. “More like a few days. You’re losing track of time, esteemed Odysseus.”

“You jest,” Odysseus snapped back. “It cannot have been less than several months. The evil enchantress, Calypso-”

“Evil?” Nobody cut across smoothly. “When she’s been catering to your every whim here on this gorgeous island? I think you might be exaggerating, esteemed Odysseus.”

“You know nothing,” Odysseus hissed. “ _Esteemed_  Nobody.”

“I know everything,” countered Nobody. “Past, present  _and_ future.” He drummed his fingers against the sand in a quick rhythm for a moment. “Do you know how many people say things like ‘nobody can get into this room now’ and ‘nobody has the power to do that’ almost  _daily?_  It’s actually quite funny. Like I said, words have power.”

“They cannot be  _that_ powerful,” Odysseus said doubtfully, but Nobody shrugged.

“Let’s test it,” he suggested. “Go on, say something, like…” He trailed off for a second. “Say, ‘nobody can insult the gods without getting caught’.”

Odysseus cleared his throat. “Nobody can insult the gods without getting caught,” he said, rather quickly.

“There we go,” beamed Nobody, stretching out on the sand. “Now I can say things like… oh, I don’t know… did you know that dear old Zeus ate his poor old dad? Bet he tasted  _delicious._ ”

Odysseus barked out a startled laugh. “Esteemed Nobody, I’m surprised you’re not dead where you stand.”

Nobody winked. “Nobody can live forever,” he said. “Fascinating, isn’t it?”

They were both silent for a moment, watching the waves draw patterns over the shore.

“The gods told me that nobody leaves this island,” said Odysseus. “Is that true?”

“I come and go as I please,” said Nobody placidly, and didn’t say any more on the subject. Odysseus frowned at him.

“Esteemed Nobody,” he began, but Nobody cut him off.

“Esteemed Odysseus,” he said. “I believe you were just about to ask you if I could get you off this island. And the answer is no, because even as powerful and wonderful as I myself am, there are some events that can’t be changed.”

Odysseus nodded, lowering his eyes. “I suppose that makes sense.”

“It does, even if you don’t know it.” Nobody stood up. “I must be off. I have more people to confuse and lives to destroy. It was a pleasure to meet you, esteemed Odysseus.”

“You too, esteemed Nobody.”

With a slight rustle of sand, the sound of footsteps receding echoed along the beach.

Odysseus sat and watched the waves for a few more moments, and then turned to look back at the shore behind him.

There were no footprints.

Nobody was there.


End file.
